


Classical Music ISN'T Pretentious!!!

by Wintergrew



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Classical Music, High School, Kyle is an obnoxiously pretentious violinist, Multi, Music, Orchestra, Red and Craig are cousins, Slow Burn, Stan is a rocker, Violins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintergrew/pseuds/Wintergrew
Summary: Kyle Broflovski knows that being an accomplished young violinist who only listens to classical orchestral music doesn't make him "cool", but why should that stop him? There are plenty of people only into country or pop music, so why shouldn't he be allowed to appreciate the classics in peace? He isn't going to change his mind, especially not for that shaggy haired new student who won't stop talking about wanting to start a metal band.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Red/Heidi Turner
Comments: 17
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dusksmote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dusksmote/gifts).



> This is for my friend dust! A few of us did a closed reverse bang exchange, and this is mine for him! It ended up going on way longer than intended as well as incredibly late oops.
> 
> Soo this is in high school, but think of it as a total AU. They don't all go to the same school, Stan only recently moved to South Park, etc etc. I also wrote Stan and Kyle quite different from how I'd usually write them, and despite Style having been my OTP back in high school this is somehow the first time I ever wrote for them. Still, I hope you all can get some enjoyment out of obnoxious music nerd Kyle and chill rocker Stan.
> 
> Red is Craig's cousin using the "Red is the daughter of Skeeter who is the brother of Thomas Tucker" theory.
> 
> LASTLY the song in question for this chapter is Debussy String Quartet in G Minor. I highly recommend listening to it while reading! (especially at parts talking about it) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79ZcXt5BJYg

“Kyle’s playing too flat again.”

“I am not.” Kyle frowned and placed his violin on his lap.

“Yes you  _ are _ ,” Craig said. He was the violist in his quartet and quite a talented one at that, but  _ always  _ had a problem with Kyle’s violin playing. He’d say he was playing off tempo, that his sticcados weren’t  _ sticcado-y _ enough, that his squeaky bowing sounded like he didn’t know how to properly apply rosin. Although Craig Tucker was one of the best viola players in all of Colorado, his constant hyperbolic nitpicking that seemed exclusively towards Kyle became something he couldn’t take seriously as criticism.

“I hate to admit it, but he is right.” Heidi Turner. Second violin. Of those in the quartet, she was the one Kyle got along with the most. They even tried dating their freshman year of high school, but they decided quickly they were better off as friends. She was a genuinely nice and intelligent girl, even if there was always going to be slight competition between the first and second violin in the quartet. Being of about equal talent they tended to switch often, although in recent years the role of first seemed to always fall on Kyle. Craig would whine that it should be the other way around, though Heidi would say nothing.

“Fine,” Kyle sighed. He plucked at his strings. Dammit. His e-string  _ was  _ a little flat. He suppressed a frown as he adjusted his fine tuner.

“Jesus, can you assholes stop being passive aggressive bitches for two minutes? Yes, Kyle your e-string became out of tune. Craig, you played the mezzo forte way the fuck too loud. It’s  _ mezzo _ forte, not fortissississimo. Heidi…” She winked. “You were fine, you keep doing you.” Red Tucker. Cellist. Cousin of Craig. While Craig would be a passive aggressive asshole mainly to Kyle, Red was unafraid to speak her mind towards  _ anyone. _

“What are you talking about? Where did I play too loud?” Craig asked.

“Second page, third measure, second bar,” she said without missing a beat, “You played the eighth notes way too loud and roughly, like you were trying to saw off your damn strings. I should know, because that part is  _ my _ solo.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, but nonetheless he flipped to the part of the music and scribbled a bold circle around the  _ mf _ . “Let’s just try this shit again from the top, okay? Tweek’s parents are supposed to pick me up at five for his birthday, so no staying late tonight.”

“ _ Please  _ let's,” Heidi said, rubbing her fingers through her mousy hair. She looked up. “Kyle?”

“Right.” Kyle turned the metronome that sat on his stand back onto 80 bpm. He tapped his bow in the beat a few times. _ “One and two and three and--” _

As much as the quartet bickered frequently, it wasn’t without significant results. They were all an incredibly successful group of young musicians, both individually and as a group. Although some days it seemed like they would no longer be able to work together, they managed to stick it out since their parents first formed their quartet back in late elementary school. It was originally more of a practice group with an instructor, but the four of them managed to sound so incredibly well together that they won all sorts of competitions and were featured in quite a few invitation-only performances. They all practiced their instruments every day for hours at the very least individually and as a group three or so times a week.

Though of course, it wouldn’t last forever. They were seniors in high school, after all. Although they all wanted to pursue music, they all had different places to further their careers or education in mind. They all had to focus on individual reciatals and auditions into music colleges and schools. 

Craig’s phone buzzed while they were on page four, the vibrations echoing from his stand. The quartet stopped.

“Shit, he’s here.” Craig grabbed his phone. “Sorry guys, can’t exactly miss out on the boyfriend’s eighteenth.” He placed his phone back on the stand and reached for his case.

“We understand,” Heidi said, “Tell him we all wish him Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Craig said as he loosened the hairs of his bow and put it in the case. He zipped it up and grabbed his folder, the papers of music falling across the floor. Red snorted while Craig cursed under his breath as he quickly scrambled to pick them up.

They were a mess of a group. 

\---

“You’re home, early,” Ike said, sprawled out on the couch eating chips as he watched some trashy reality show on Netflix, “Mom said your band shit lasts until six.”

“First of all, we’re a  _ quartet _ , not a band.” Kyle rolled his eyes as he threw his coat on top of his younger brother. Ike shifted, throwing it to the ground. “Second of all, it’s Craig’s boyfriend’s birthday, so we ended early.”

“Damn, are all strings people gay?”

“Excuse you.” Kyle picked his coat up off the floor and threw it back onto Ike’s head.

“Well, I’m right, right?” Ike pulled the coat down from his head, but decided to use it as a blanket. “Didn’t Heidi dump you for Red?”

“N-No.” Kyle turned away. His face turned red quite easily, and that was something he didn’t want his brother to see. “Heidi and I broke up because we decided--”

“Like, she’s literally a lesbian.”

“Whatever,” Kyle groaned, taking off his hat and placing it on the coffee table. “Sure, she’s dating Red. That’s fine. Do you think I’m homophobic? Lesbians, bi women, they all deserve respect. Heidi can date whatever man or woman she wants, it’s none of my business.”

“Dude, I was just making an observation. You don’t need to get so defensive.”

“I’m  _ not _ .”

A sound of footsteps approached the living room. “Is that Kyle?” their father asked, walking into the living room, “I thought your practice lasted until six--?”

“Well it didn’t. I’m going to my room,” Kyle said, angrier than he should have sounded. His father’s eyes widened at his attitude and Kyle knew he’d probably regret his temper later, but at the moment he didn’t really care. He picked his violin back up from where he left it in the entryway and carried it with him up the stairs. He should’ve just said Craig was busy.

He didn’t slam his door, but he did close it louder than he intended to. Whatever. His mom would probably yell at him for his attitude towards his dad, slammed door or not. He sighed. He didn’t have  _ bad _ parents, but they were a lot to deal with.

He placed his violin case on his bed and reached for the zippers to pull them open. It was a relatively new violin, an upgrade from his last one that Ike dropped down the stairs that time he asked him to bring it to him. The darker brown wood and shinier finish was still odd for him to look at. He should have gotten a higher quality instrument years ago, but it still felt wrong to no longer play the instrument he had ever since he outgrew his ¾ size violin back in middle school. 

He let out a long exhale as he tightened his bow and applied rosin. It was fine. This violin was fine.

He pulled over his music stand and flipped through the music folder for his quartet. String Quartet in G Minor. They decided it would be their next, and likely second to final, performance. Kyle had always been pretty keen on this one. He always liked Debussy. 

“You’re a simp for him,” Red would say.

He had to google what that meant the first time she said it, though google didn’t really help explain it at all. Still, he knew she was trying to be snide, and therefore took offense. Enjoying good music didn’t make him a “simp”. Or at least, he was pretty sure it didn’t.

Red always tried to argue for them to play more modern music. She brought forth a string quartet rendition of a Sia song, which Kyle rejected before hearing it or trying to sight read it. It wasn’t that he had any higher say in what they played as the first violin--they never worked that way as a group. It was that, plain and simply, he knew that Sia was a pop artist and therefore vehemently refused to give the song the time of day.

“Shit Kyle, it wouldn’t kill you to listen to an artist who lived within a hundred years of us.” Red rolled her eyes as she took back the sheet music.

“That’s not true,” Kyle objected, “Just last night I fell asleep listening to John Williams. For a movie composer, he has a lot of good songs.”

“Cool. But would you let us  _ play _ John Williams?” she asked.

“Well...no,” he said, “I think it’d be kinda tacky.”

“Jesus, you’re helpless.”

Kyle stared blankly at the music without lifting his instrument. With a sigh, he closed the music folder and reached for his second one on the floor.

His solo pieces. His mother insisted he take one on one lessons every Tuesday after school, which leads to individual recitals on top of anything with his quartet. Plus, now he also had to begin preparing for auditions for schools. Thankfully his teacher chose works that would help him with auditions, not putting a third thing on his plate.

He also had his high school orchestra. But their public school skill level was so far beneath his that he put very little time into practicing those pieces individually. Plus, the teacher liked to pick gimmicky modern songs to catch the attention of the students that were only there because their parents made them. He didn’t even practice an hour on the audition piece that got him first chair freshman year. He got challenged multiple times, but didn’t lose his seat once.

So he looked at the piece his tutor gave him instead. Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. A rather hard solo violin piece that wasn’t his favorite Tchaikofsky in the world, but his tutor argued that with it’s difficulty and way it pushed at his skill it would be good for him. That, and he had it in good authority that many schools had it in their possible musical selection pools for auditions.

He placed his bow gently on his strings. He inhaled deeply and began to play.

He never enjoyed playing the violin alone as much as he did in his quartet. Though on the other hand, he didn’t particularly enjoy playing with a large orchestra, either. His school orchestra fumbled too much and the regional orchestras he had been a part of always felt like more of a chore than anything. He knew he would likely have to in college, but eventually joining a symphony professionally wasn’t what he wanted.

It was what Red wanted. She eyed the big New York schools. Juilliard. Manhattan School of Music. Her end goal was to play in an orchestra pit for ballets or Broadway musicals. 

Heidi wanted to be a music teacher. She wanted to continue on playing in a university orchestra, but was going to major in musical education. She was particularly interested in teaching elementary school music.

Craig, on the other hand, was only continuing music for the sake of scholarships. He was planning on going to a typical college to study engineering. His viola skills would simply help pay his way. Still keep his skills, maybe join a quartet as an adult, but it wasn’t going to be his main career pathway.

Kyle...He didn’t know. His indecisiveness bothered his parents, his tutor, his school guidance counselor, and probably a bunch of other people, but he really didn’t know. He applied and already auditioned for various schools, from your general academic universities to the music schools. Part of him considered going to a fancy music school like Red, but his high pressure parents also were for him getting a STEM or law degree of some kind. 

A loud bang came from his instrument in the middle of his song, echoing through his room and perhaps the entire house. His e-string snapped. 

Kyle groaned. He had extra strings, but he didn’t feel like replacing it right then. He loosened his bow and placed the broken-stringed instrument back in the case. He’d deal with it tomorrow.

\---

“Man, it’d really suck to change schools the middle of senior year,” Kenny said the next day. He leaned all the way back in his chair with the front legs in the air. Kyle always said he was going to fall and crack his head open one day. He could simply turn his chair around, after all.

“He probably could have found a friend or something to stay with if he really cared that much about finishing his senior year,” Kyle said with a shrug, “Annie Knits has been living with Lola’s family since the middle of junior year when her family moved to Oregon.”

“I dunno, not everyone’s family is cool with that,” Kenny said, “I mean  _ my _ parents probably would be, but would yours?”

“Good point.”

Kenny McCormick was perhaps Kyle’s one true friend in school. Sure, Heidi, Red, and even Craig probably counted as friends, but they all went to a different school. The same school. 

It wasn’t that Kyle was particularly  _ disliked _ . No one really went out of their way to bully him, but no one really went out of their way to talk to him, either. Just Kenny. Kenny, a fairly popular boy who had a lot of friends outside of Kyle.

It wasn’t that Kenny’s friends didn’t like Kyle, either. It was just that they...didn’t hit it off. If he was included, he was generally treated like an extension of Kenny. If Kenny planned something, sure Kyle would be included. If someone else did, he usually wouldn’t.

Maybe that’s why Kyle didn’t see transferring in the middle of senior year that big of a deal. He wasn’t able to make connections to it like most teenagers. School was a place of studying. While he liked to learn, the physical building and “high school culture” wasn’t exactly a thing he felt like he belonged in. 

“So Stanley, do you want to introduce yourself?” Ms. Rodriguez asked. 

“Stan,” he corrected her a little too quickly. “But uh--” He got up from his desk, stumbling over the front leg of it. “Sure. From my desk?”

“Up here, please.”

“Uh, sure then.” He pulled at the strings of his sweatshirt jacket as he stood up at the front. “I’m, uh, well my name’s Stan Marsh. I don’t like to be called Stanley, so please Stan.”

Kyle looked on at him. He had a sort of disheveled look. Not that unlike Kenny, but in a different way. Kenny was more a low income guy who presents himself in a very “fuck the rules, I do what I want” manner. Stan had more of a “I just rolled out of bed” energy to him. Not the trendy “I’m going out of my way to look like I rolled out of bed to look cool” style, but a genuine “ah shit, I slept past my alarm and spilled my cereal milk all over my homework I forgot to do until this morning.” Perhaps it was his shaggy, but not  _ too _ long, black hair. Perhaps it was his baggy clothes and black t-shirt Kyle could only guess was for some heavy metal band. Perhaps it was the way he stumbled over his words like an idiot.

“Anyway, like uh, I’m from St. Louis. Uh, the city in Missouri. The one with the arch? But, it kinda sucks so don’t go there. Though I’m actually from the county, not the city. But they’re kinda all assholes, so--”

“ _ Language _ ,” Ms. Rodriguez scolded.

“Oh, uh right, sorry,” Stan said, “But, anyway. Yeah, I’m Stan from St. Louis and my parents moved here because my old as fu- _ -really old  _ grandpa who lives here got cancer, so yeah. Umm...Oh! I guess I really like hard rock music, if you can’t tell by my shirt. I was in a band back in St. Louis, but we kinda sucked so--”

“Thank you, Stan,” Ms. Rodriguez cut him off, “You can take a seat now.”

“Right,” he said. As he went back to his desk, he stumbled over the leg of someone's chair. The class laughed. Yet instead of looking embarrassed, Stan shrugged it off and even chuckled himself.

And so Ms. Rodriguez began her lecture on marine science. Kyle’s parents were angry over him not taking AP Chemistry, but he took it because Kenny wanted to. He had no real interest in the ocean, but it was nice to have a class with a friend for once.

“So that new kid,” Kenny whispered to him as their teacher droned on about the different types of fins on fish, “He seems pretty cool, huh?”

“Cool?” Kyle asked, “I thought he seemed like a huge mess.”

“Yeah, but like...a  _ fun  _ mess.”

“If you say so.”

“Would you be pissed if I asked him to sit with us at lunch?”

“Go ahead.” Kyle shrugged. “Doubt he’d want to, though. He might already have a group of friends already made.”

\---

“Wow, the food here is less shitty than my old school,” Stan said as he placed his tray down across from Kyle, “Not that this shit looks  _ good _ , but I’m impressed.”

“I guess.”

Kenny and Kyle always sat at the far end of the long table closest to the salad bar. After second period marine science, Kenny did as he said he would and invited Stan to sit with them, to which Stan quickly agreed. To which Kyle groaned.

Fourth period, Kenny got lunch detention for forgetting his geometry homework for the third straight week. Meaning Kyle was stuck with the new kid.  _ Alone _ .

“So I was talking to Kenny third period and he said you’re into music?”

Kyle picked up his violin that was on the floor next to him to show him.

“Oh shit, is that an ukulele?”

“It’s a violin.”

“Oh damn, even cooler,” Stan said as he put a chicken nugget into his mouth, “Don’t they say that the violin is, like, the hardest instrument to play?”

“People do say that, yes.” Kyle placed his violin back safely under the cafeteria bench. “But I’m not sure if I’d agree. I think that sort of thing depends heavily on practice and individual strengths.”

“Right on.” Stan nodded, as if he understood what Kyle was saying. “I’ve always been more of a vocalist. Tried guitar, but I’m kinda shit. Better off finding more talented people to deal with that.”

“For a metal band, right?”

“Hell yeah.” Stan grinned a large, toothy smile. Despite his disheveled appearance, his teeth were surprisingly white, save for some chicken nugget ketchup stuck to part of it. A low bar, but one met nonetheless. “I learned to scream pretty young--you can fuck up your voice if you do it wrong--but it’s actually not as hard as it seems. It’s all about technique and shit.”

“I don’t know.” He was trying to be polite.

“I can teach you if you want.” Stan’s blue eyes grew large. It reminded Kyle of a puppy. A shaggy, unkempt puppy.

“No thanks.”

“Well, alright,” Stan said. He began to lean back but then jumped as he was reminded by gravity of backlessness of the bench. “But uh, either way, in regards to music stuff...Electric violins in metal bands aren’t unheard of. It’s actually pretty badass.”

“What?”

“Yeah! People really underestimate how cool strings can be. People think it’s all boring classical music, but really--”

“I  _ am _ a classical musician.”

“Right! I didn’t mean that  _ I  _ think classical music is all boring. It’s all cool. But you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

Stan let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Listen, I’m sorry if that came across dickish. Classical music is great. What I’m saying is, I’m trying to invite you to the metal band I’m forming.”

“You--”

“Just hear me out!” Stan raised both palms out in the air. “I know I’m new, but I still have experience in the whole band thing. It can be as serious or not serious as all the band members wanna take it. It’s not to take away from your classical music thing, it’s just…you know, something extra to do for fun!”

Kyle looked at him long and hard.

“No.”

\---

“You seem more irritated than usual,” Red said as Kyle walked into the studio, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you swapped places with Craig.”

“Hey!” Craig said, scowling at his bow as he rosined it. 

“Just saying,” she said, shrugging in a way that came across awkwardly with the weight of her cello against her.

“I’m fine. Just had an annoying day at school. A new student,” Kyle said, taking his usual seat. 

“Oh no.” Heidi’s big brown eyes widened in concern.

“Was he a big dick or something?” Craig asked. He didn’t sound terribly concerned as he plucked away at his viola strings, but asked nonetheless.

“No,” Kyle sighed as he opened his case on his lap, “Just...annoying.”

“That’s lame,” Craig said as he adjusted the peg to his c-string.

“It’s fine,” Kyle said as he began to tune his own instrument, “It’s senior year and it’s not like he’ll hang around anymore after this.” 

“Right.” Craig picked up his bow and pressed it to his a-string. “Just don’t let it get in the way of your playing, I guess.”

\---

“You’re  _ what _ ?” Kyle said to Kenny a little too loudly in the public library. It was where the two always agreed to study for marine science some evenings, the last hour before the library closed. Kyle didn’t  _ actually  _ need to study for the class, but he avoided telling Kenny that as an excuse to hang out.

Kenny gave an overly theatrical shrug, pressing his left ear into his shoulder. “I dunno, just sounded like fun.”

“Do you even know  _ how _ to play bass guitar?” Kyle tried to say in a quieter, library appropriate voice.

“I mean, I played the double bass for a year in middle school,” Kenny said, “I can’t imagine it’ll be that much different. Plus, Stan’s got one he doesn’t need, meaning I don’t gotta pay for shit.”

“First of all, it’s  _ not _ the same,” Kyle said, pressing his hand to his forehead, “Second of all, you barely even practiced the bass.”

“Whatever. Even if I suck hard, it’s still something fun to do. It’s not like I’m stuck in some blood contract, unable to leave. I don’t get why it bothers you so much.”

“I-It doesn’t!” Kyle frowned and opened his marine science textbook, hoping the conversation would end there and instead change to studying.  _ Chapter 4: The anatomy of fish. _ An incredibly boring chapter, but still the more preferable conversation topic.

Kenny reached for his own textbook--in far worse shape than Kyle’s--and slowly flipped through the pages. “You know, Stan really is a nice dude. He really seems into that whole band shit, and already convinced Butters to do guitar and Jimmy Valmer to do drums.”

“Jimmy the drum major in the marching band?” It was such an abrupt surprise, that he no longer cared that his attempt at changing the conversation failed.

“I don’t fucking know anything about the classical music department in our school. But sure, maybe.”

“That’s actually kind of impressive, then.” Not that the band was impressive. But he knew of Jimmy. It didn’t matter what sort of band it was, he was a good drummer, as far as the school music department was concerned.

“Hell yeah!” Kenny leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. “It’s gonna be awesome, man!”

“If you say so.”

\---

The first time Kyle heard them play was when he went to drop off Kenny’s PE uniform at his house. Kyle had forgotten his own that morning, but Kenny had an extra set stuffed in the bottom of his locker. Although it was covered in dust from Kenny’s locker and Kyle was pretty sure it wasn’t washed since the time it was used before, Kyle took it upon himself to take it home and wash it before returning it.

Going to Kenny’s house was somewhat of a rarity. They didn’t hang out at Kenny’s house often. He was known for being the poorest kid in school and his small, run down house on the other side of the railroad tracks showed it. It didn’t bother Kyle, but he knew it bothered Kenny, so the two of them usually hung out in public or at Kyle’s house.

In that way, it was a big surprise that Kenny invited his band over to practice in his garage.

Logistically, it made sense. It was usually used to store junk--his father’s worn down pick up truck was always parked in front of the house. Sure, it was unheated in the cold early Colorado winter, but with a space heater borrowed by a band member and a long enough extension cord, it could be  _ tolerable _ . It was a decent enough sized detached garage that was admittedly suited for a garage band. Plus, his parents were less likely to disapprove of loud rock music being blasted compared to other more uptight suburban families.

It made logical sense. But it was still weird for Kenny.

They weren’t fully playing a song when Kyle opened the door to the garage. They were all strumming somewhat aimlessly with Jimmy--confirmed, the drum major Jimmy--beating away at what was most reminiscent of an actual song’s rhythm. Even with the small space heater plugged in they all had heavy coats on as they strummed away, Kenny complete with fingerless gloves. An odd look for a hardcore rock band.

“Yo, Kyle!” Kenny called out. He took the base strap off from around his shoulder and placed the large, yellow instrument to the side to greet him. As he ran up, he nearly tripped over one of the many cords all about on the garage floor..

“Your band?” Kyle asked. He looked around to the three other people in the room. Jimmy, who he had already taken note of. Butters, a somewhat friend of Kenny’s who was known for being a nice, goody-goody Catholic boy. He wasn’t exactly heavy rock material, even with an odd v-shaped guitar in his arms. And of course, there was Stan Marsh.

Stan seemed about as happy to see him as Kyle. The band leader and vocalist had no instrument, but he had the shaggy black hair and dark clothes of a rock band member all the same. Even if his large, puppy dog grin canceled the  _ hardcore _ look out.

“Kyle!” Stan said, “Surprised to see you here, man. Kenny said--”

“I could say the same.”

Stan blinked. “You’re not--?”

“Your gym clothes.” Kyle handed Kenny a plastic grocery bag. “I had them washed and dried for you.”

“Oh, thanks,” Kenny said as he took the bag and looked inside. He placed it somewhat haphazardly on the ground. “We’re just starting band practice. I would have invited you to watch, but I know you’re not into this sorta music.”

“Yeah, since you’re here already, why don’t you stay?!” Stan said, “We kinda suck still, but--”

“No thanks,” Kyle cut him off, “I have to practice my own music. Then I have a lot of homework.”

Stan’s smile faltered for a moment, but he forced it back. “That’s cool. Whenever you’re not busy, though, feel free to watch us!”

“I’ll pass, but thanks.”

Kenny laughed. “I told you, dude. Kyle is only into classical shit. The concept of trying to get him to widen his horizons musically is like askin’ a damn goldfish to climb a tree.”

Kyle scowled. He resented that sentiment.

Sure, he liked classical music, but so what? There were plenty of people that were only into a certain type of music and weren’t shamed for it. Plenty of people only listened to pop music or rap or country. Classical music, orchestral music--it was a very beautiful and under appreciated style of music. If anything, the lack of appreciation for the historical art meant that he should appreciate it even more.

“That’s fine.” Stan shrugged. “Everyone has their taste. No use trying to force someone into it.”

Kyle’s face grew hot.

“I really do have to go,” he said, turning his face away from them, “I’m already running late to rehearsal for my quartet. So, see you guys at school tomorrow.”

He wasn’t really running late, especially given that Kenny’s house was on the way to the studio they rented out at the community center, a town over from his own in South Park. Once upon a time they practiced at a music school with an instructor, but once they decided they were beyond that they put together money to rent out a small room a few times a week. 

Sure, they  _ also _ could theoretically save money by practicing in a garage. But at the very least Kyle, if not the others, enjoyed the act of going to a studio to practice. Not to mention, the acoustics in a classroom style place were bound to be superior to that of a garage.

Kyle sighed as he parked his car at the center. He stared at his hands on the wheel for a few moments, tapping his fingers on it. He sighed again and turned off the ignition and reached for his things before heading out into the briskly cool air.

“Thought you said you were gonna be late,” Kyle heard Craig’s voice from behind him. Sure enough, Craig also just pulled into the parking lot, heading towards the building with his viola in tow. e.

“Errand went quicker than I thought.”

“I see,” he replied, although he seemed less interested in what Kyle had to say and more interested in tugging at the drawstrings of his coat.

“Getting colder,” Kyle said, trying to prevent an awkward silence.

“Mm.” Craig gave the slightest nod. “Real bitch on the viola, especially with this piece of shit case. Decided to buy a humidifier.”

“Does it work?” Kyle continued to force the conversation. “My hygrometer levels are okay enough, but it never hurts to be safe, you know?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged, only slightly noticeable through the thickness of his coat. “I just know I don’t want this goddamn $10,000 instrument to crack because of the shit Colorado weather.”

“Fair enough.” Kyle opened the door of the community center for the both of them. The heated building felt nice against his face that he was able to ignore Craig’s lack of acknowledgement for him holding the door for him.

But then, that’s how Craig was. He wasn’t a bad guy by any means, but he wasn’t exactly flowers and sunshine. He was blunt and deadpan and lacked common courtesy. When Kyle was younger, he took it incredibly personally, wondering what he ever did to Craig for him to act that way. But over time and after speaking with Red about him enough, he realized that was just how he was. 

“He actually considers you a friend,” Red told him once, some years ago, “I know he does. If he didn’t, he’d straight up tell you he doesn't like you. Or more sunsinctly, he’d tell you to fuck off.”

It held true enough. He saw how Craig interacted with others when they hung around various other people. He didn’t treat Kyle differently than he did his best friends from his High School. He saw him give his mind to people he hated. That was how Craig was. An open book with negative emotions, but a closed on when it came to positive ones.

That was, except to his boyfriend.

Craig announced that he had a boyfriend very plainly. Sure, none of them were homophobic or judgemental, but even still there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation or “coming out”. He plainly and simply said he had a boyfriend and that was that. His name was Tweek. He was a talented pianist. The son of coffee shop owners. A “pretty alright dude” in Craig’s own words.

It was less odd to Kyle that Craig was gay, and more odd to him that he was able to form a relationship. Sure, he didn’t guess it with his terrible gaydar, but he was such an enigma of a person that it made sense enough. No, it was the fact that someone as aloof and deadpan as him could actually enter a romantic relationship.

For a while, Kyle wondered what sort of person this Tweek guy could be. Who would be able to put up with someone as thick as him? Was he likewise as aloof? He had the mental image of a date with Craig being two people sitting five feet apart while looking at the cell phones ignoring each other.

Actually meeting Tweek was a huge shock.

“Craig!” Tweek called out as Craig and Kyle finally reached the practice room, “And Kyle! Red said you were going to be late today.”

“Tweek, long time no see,” Kyle greeted him back with a vague wave of his instrument-holding hand.

“Hey, babe,” Craig said, a crooked smile growing across his face. Tweek ran over to him and kissed him square on the mouth before Craig could place his viola down.

Kyle never expected Craig of all people to be in a sappy, PDA relationship.

Sure, Heidi was the only person he ever went out with. Sure, it ended abruptly shortly after they kissed for the first time and she admitted that she realized guys just don’t do it for her. So yeah, he didn’t exactly know how relationships were supposed to go. But that was okay.

He saw Heidi and Red. Yes, Red was softer to her than anyone else, but she was still...Red. They more or less had the same personality when together, albeit in a more coupley way. Kenny dated a different girl a week, it seemed, and although Kenny would try to act cool, he was ultimately the same guy.

Why did Craig seem like a totally different person around Tweek? Was that really a normal thing that could happen. Kyle couldn’t really picture himself changing  _ that much _ around a romantic partner.

“I was going to play piano accompaniment to make up for you being gone,” Tweek explained.

“It’s fine,” Kyle said, “You don’t have to explain why you came here. You know you’re welcome any time.” He meant it. Tweek was a nice kid. Plus, probably due to the fact that he was a serious musician himself, he knew better than to interrupt while they were playing and knew how to behave appropriately.

“Yeah, hon,” Craig said as he opened his viola case from his chair, “Since you drove all the way out here, why don’t you stay and listen?”

“Of course. You know I always like to hear you guys.” Tweek poked his boyfriend’s nose as he adjusted his bow hair. Craig chuckled under his breath.

Craig really did seem like a different person around him. Kyle sighed to himself as he opened his instrument and began to tune it.

\---

“Hey, Kyle!”

The familiarness to how Stan said his name was a little weird, but he ignored it.

“Hi.”

“It was cool seeing you at our practice last night. Nice surprise.” Stan leaned over from his desk next to Kyle’s, his hand cupped to make up from the noisiness of the classroom as they waited for the bell to ring. 

“To be fair, it was just as much a surprise for me as it was for you.”

“That’s fair,” Stan said with a shrug. He pulled out the looseleaf papers that were homework out of his textbook, the corners all bent from using the book as a folder. He carelessly tossed the textbook under the basket of his desk, creating a ringing sound against the metal.

The bell rang.

Latin wasn’t a very crowded class, being that it wasn’t exactly popular to take a dead language. A decent number of the students were the kids doing it for religion, especially Catholics, which Kyle as a Jewish boy definitely wasn’t. He just thought Latin was cool. Antiquated. He knew a little Hebrew and appreciated it, and found it fascinating how a once permanently dead language was brought back into being a major native language. 

He liked bringing up the Hebrew example whenever people brought up that people couldn’t speak Latin. Sure people could. People did.  _ Audentes fortuna iuvat.  _

Also, there was the fact that it was  _ cool  _ to read classical works in the original Latin. Though of course, even he and all his nerdiness had too much pride to admit that out loud.

“Good afternoon class,” Mr. Martin said. He was an aging teacher that was probably past retirement age, but he pointed out that there were so few Latin instructors nowadays. “First, I want you all to get into pairs and go over your homework. Five minutes.”

Stan slapped his palm on Kyle’s desk. “Let’s do this,” he said, grabbing his crumpled paper.

“Alright,” Kyle agreed, pulling his own perfectly kept homework from his Latin folder. He was almost afraid to hand it over to Stan, given the state of how he kept his own school supplies. Still, he traded papers with him and clicked his red pen to begin checking.

Kyle clicked his pen a few times as he read what Stan wrote. His handwriting was atrocious and there was a coffee stain across one of his answers but...everything appeared to be correct. His short answers were thoughtful, his chart on declension seemed correct.

He clicked his pen shut. “You know, I haven’t asked. What made you want to study Latin?”

“Honestly?” Stan asked, “Thought it sounded cool. I’m a pretty big horror fan, and Latin is always used in weird incantations and shit. I thought it would be pretty neat to use Latin in lyrics and shit. Even if a lot of class is more on learning grammar rules than how to construct sick rhymes, ya know?”

Kyle couldn’t help but crack a sideways grin.

“Plus,” Stan continued, “I always thought it would be a pretty cool flex to be able to read classic lit in Latin. Thought I’d be able to read the original Plato.”

“Plato is--”

“Greek. I know that  _ now _ ,” he chuckled, “But tell that to 14 year old me.”

“You know, I’m actually the same, kinda,” Kyle admitted, “Not to read Plato--I knew he was Greek. But, I think it’s a fascinating skill to be able to read ancient texts in the original language. Though I didn’t think of it as a  _ cool flex. _ Kind of thought it was too nerdy to admit.”

“Nah man, I think it’s really rad. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“I guess.” Kyle averted his gaze.

“Wanna learn more in college?” he asked, “Study Ancient Greek to  _ actually _ be able to learn Plato.”

“No,” Kyle said as he handed back Stan’s redmark-less paper, “But I do know some Hebrew already.”

“Damn, that’s really cool! Between that and apparently being some damn musical prodigy, you seem like a total genius.”

“I dunno about  _ that _ .”

“I mean it though,” Stan said, his big blue puppy dog eyes looking directly into Kyle’s, “You seem like a cool dude, man. I’d like to get to know you.”

Kyle blinked. “Why?” He didn’t mean to be so blunt and abrupt, but it was as if the word left his mouth out of his control.

“Why?” he asked, “I just said. You seem like a cool guy. You’re really smart, you know what you like and are hella passionate about it, plus Kenny’s a cool guy and he only says great things about you.”

“Does he?”

“Yeah!” Stan’s smile widened, showing his pearly white teeth. As messy as he was, he had exceptional dental hygiene, at least. 

“Well, maybe,” Kyle said, breaking away eye contact, “But I can’t really hang out after school much or anything now. My quartet has a recital coming up next month, so I have to use most of my free time.”

“Oh sweet,” Stan said, “Uh...about the recital, I mean. A Christmas concert?”

“No, because I’m Jewish.”

Stan’s eyes widened as if he figured he just made a huge faux paus. Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle.

“To be fair,” Kyle explained, “When we were younger and had an instructor, he did call it a Christmas recital and then later a  _ Holiday _ recital to be more politically correct. But now that it’s just the four of us on our own, renting out venues by ourselves and everything, we just call it our winter concert. Makes it easier.”

“That’s so cool, though,” Stan insisted, “You guys are just a bunch of teens able to put on all that shit all on your own.”

“I guess. Thanks.”

The five minute timer on the whiteboard beeped. Mr. Martin called the class back to attention. Kyle nodded politely at Stan and focused his attention to the teacher.

\---

Craig was playing an unfamiliar piece when Kyle entered the practice room.

“He got a callback for UCLA next week,” Heidi said. 

“Dumbass hasn’t even been practicing for it until now,” Red laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend from behind.

Kyle could see from the corner of his eyes Craig visibly scowling, but he didn’t miss a note and continued to play his piece effortlessly. With someone as gifted as Craig, he was one of few who could reasonably wait until the last minute to practice for an audition. It was something he was known to do.

“I’m luckily finished with all of mine” Kyle said, “Just a waiting game until admissions get back in March.”

“Me too,” Red said, leaning her head into her girlfriend’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her waist and onto her stomach, “But I got to play the cousin going on a family trip card, and I’m not complaining about a weekend trip to Cali. Might be able to film a few cool vids.”

“How is your channel doing, by the way?” Kyle asked, ignoring the PDA in front of him to instead move on to his chair to set up his instrument.

“She just hit one hundred thousand subs,” Heidi said proudly. Kyle inadvertently looked back at them and saw her massaging Red’s hands that played with the hem of her shirt.

“Congratulations,” Kyle said as he opened his case.

Craig’s song came to an end and he put his instrument on his lap. 

“Nothing’s stopping you from joining in,” he said to Kyle.

“No thanks.” He shook his head.

“Ad revenue helps pay for our venues and creates hype for people to actually buy our tickets,” Craig said, narrowing his eyes slightly, “I know you think it’s beneath you or whatever, but it’s really a lot of hard work that helps benefit--”

“He doesn’t want to, Craig,” Red cut him off. She broke away from her girlfriend and playfully wacked him on the head. He grimaced, but didn’t give her the benefit of looking back at her. “If he doesn’t wanna, he doesn’t have to.”

“That’s right,” Heidi agreed.

“Whatever,” Craig said, rolling his eyes as he put his bow on the stand.

“It  _ isn’t _ that I think it’s beneath me,” Kyle assured them all, “I think it’s impressive the amount of work and following you all put in, Red especially. I’ve read people say that they’ve gotten into playing string instruments because of you all, and how Craig makes the viola seem ‘less lame’. But...yeah, I’m just not into doing flashy pop music for youtube.”

“And that’s your right,” Heidi agreed.

“Even though we said we could do a video with more  _ classical  _ music with you. You totally shot down Tweek’s idea for a duet that he spent actual time on coming up with,” Craig added snidely.

“Knock it off.” Red smacked her cousin, this time slightly less playfully. 

“Whatever,” Craig said again, “I mean, I’m not a shitty violinist myself, so I’ll probably just do it with him, anyway.”

“Let’s stop talking about this,” Heidi begged, putting her hand to her forehead.

“Please,” Red and Kyle said in near unison.

“I submitted an early admission for NYU a little while ago,” Heidi said in a quieter voice as she tried to change the subject, “I should be getting an answer in the coming weeks. But if I get in, that means Red and I will both be up in New York.”

Kyle bit his lip. California, where Craig wanted to go, was within a doable weekend trip away, but New York seemed like a world away from Colorado. Kyle had some schools in mind for the East Coast, sure, but nothing in New York specifically.

“I’ll have my fingers crossed.”

\---

“Being in a rock band automatically makes you cooler,” Kenny said to him in the hallway. He took his status as being a band member a little too seriously, especially for a band that never played in front of a crowd or recorded a song before.

“I guess to a certain type of person.”

“Ouch, dude.”

“I’m just  _ saying _ ,” Kyle said with a roll of his eyes as he did his combination lock, “You’re not going to be cool with everyone, you know. So if you’re not into it and just doing it for that, then--”

“Hey, I’m also ‘ _ into it’ _ ,” he said with air quotes. 

“Yeah, but don’t act like you’re not also doing it for how people perceive you.”

“Shit, Kyle,” Kenny said, leaning against the locker next to him with a loud bang of the metal, “ _ Everything _ we do has to do with how people perceive you.”

“That’s not--”

“Fine,  _ almost _ everything.” Kenny rolled his eyes. “And it’s not always a bad thing, ya know. Especially if you’re into it.”

“Let’s just go.” Kyle shoved his textbook into the locker and slammed the door shut. “I’m starving.”

Stan continued to sit with them at lunch, though very quickly it became not  _ just _ Stan joining them. Jimmy and Butters due to band things, but seemingly every day it seemed to expand.

Given how well liked in the school Stan seemed to be so quickly, perhaps there was some merit to what Kenny said. It made more sense than everyone obsessing over Stan just... _ because _ . Either way, it seemed kind of weird, given how much of a grungy mess he seemed to be. Unless that was what was  _ in  _ now.

“Hey Kyle, hey Kenny!” Wendy Testaburger greeted them. Ever since she and her friend Bebe came into their table group they sat in the two exact spots Kenny and Kyle used to always sit in. Of course, he never complained. It would be weird to complain, wouldn’t it?

“Sup?” Kenny shoved his tray down in an empty spot between Butters and Jimmy. The table was quite crowded, with no visible spaces left available on the bench. An uneasy feeling grew in Kyle’s stomach.

“Hey guys, scoot over,” Stan called out, “Make some space for Kyle.” 

“It’s uh--”

“Don’t be silly dude!” Stan waved over to him, “There’s plenty of room.” He was at the end of the bench, but allowed about half-a-person space between him and the edge. Half of Kyle would fall off the edge, if he sat there. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he’d have to sit alone. With a sigh, he took his spot next to Stan.

“Got enough space?” Stan asked. Kyle shrugged.

Lunch today was a soggy hamburger and even soggier french fries that drooped when he picked them up. He hated cafeteria meat, but he picked apart the tasteless bun that wasn’t touching the meat. Tasteless, but edible.

“So, how different were the lunches in your old school?” Wendy asked Stan from where she sat across from him.

“Uh, about as shit as this,” he said, “Though the school was big, so there were several different lunch hours, which sucked. I always ended up not having them with my friends.”

“Don’t have to worry about that here, huh?” Kenny joked, playfully shoving him. The shove had a domino effect, nearly knocking Kyle off the edge.

“Whoa there,” Stan called out. He instinctively wrapped his arm around Kyle’s waist to catch him from falling to the floor. 

“Thanks,” Kyle said. Stan’s arm was still there.

“Can’t have you falling off,” Stan said, tightening his grip, although raising it higher up his torso.

Kyle was pretty sure this was a weird look to anyone who would be watching them, especially based on everything Kenny has ever said about the “bro code”. Unless guys were a lot touchier with each other in St. Louis. He doubted it.

“You can let go.”

“Oh right,” Stan’s arm snapped away, “I just--I didn’t want you to fall off. I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine. I’m steady now.”

“Alright.” Stan flashed a smile. A friendly smile, that didn’t match a concerned look in his eyes. A  _ weird  _ concerned look. One that Kyle didn’t want to think about.

Kyle ate one of the soggy fries. It was like wet cardboard.

\---

At first Kyle was angry that Kenny invited Stan to their weekly study sessions at the library. It was  _ their _ thing, after all. As busy as Kyle was preparing for the winter concert, it was one of few times he really had to hang out one on one with his best friend. Sure, it was technically for the betterment of their studies. Sure, Stan was in the same class. But still, it wasn’t like Kyle actually  _ needed _ study sessions for an easy class like that.

“What did you get on the last test?” Stan asked as he joined them at the table, putting his bag on the library table a little too loudly.

“C,” said Kenny.

“An A,” said Kyle. He actually got 100%, but he didn’t need to specify that.

“I got a B-,” Stan said, “At my old school it was Oceanography about waves and shit, not this fish anatomy bullshit, so I was kinda thrown off guard.”

“Still better than me, dick.” Kenny punched his arm.

“Yeah, but I need a 3.5 GPA for my scholarship,” Stan said, “I suck at Calc, so I was hoping this class was gonna be an easy A to balance it out.”

“Great, another nerd,” Kenny teased.

Kyle ignored him as he flipped through his textbook. Although Stan  _ was _ good at Latin, he didn’t exactly take a scruffy rocker boy like him as someone who got good grades. Not as good as him, with his GPA over 4.0 with his AP classes, but still. Stan was no dummy. 

“You’re in luck,” Kyle said as he flipped through the latter half of his textbook, “First semester is marine biology, while second is more on your  _ ‘waves and shit’ _ .”

“Sweet.” Stan cocked a grin at him. “I’ll have the upper hand. Maybe I can tutor  _ you _ .”

“Doubt it.”

Stan laughed, clearly believing that Kyle was joking. He wasn’t. But at least he got amusement instead of offense at Kyle’s bluntness. He cracked a small smile.

“For now though, we gotta study coral bullshit,” Kenny pointed out.

“Right.” Stan flipped through his textbook to chapter 5, aptly named  _ Coral Reefs _ . “Coral is pretty rad, I think. I feel like we could write a song about society that’s some metaphor to it.”

“After this shit is over, maybe. I don’t wanna be reminded about school horeshit--or maybe I should say  _ sharkshit _ \--while playing music.”

“Fair. I’ll put it on the backburner.” He pulled out his notebook and began to scan through his notes, clicking his red pen a few times.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Kyle said in a quiet voice.

“Hm?” Stan put his pen down. 

“You know, basing music off of something academic, something you’re learning in school,” Kyle said, “I think it’s deeper than singing about murder or whatever your sort of metal music is really about.”

Kenny laughed much too loud for the library. Kyle scowled and turned away to return to his notes.

“Don’t laugh, Kenny,” Stan said, putting his arm around Kyle’s shoulder defensively. Kyle flinched. “Don’t be jealous that Kyle and I are musical academics on the same wavelength.”

“I wouldn’t say the two of you are on the same  _ any _ length.”

“That’s not true,” Stan pouted, his arm still firmly resting on Kyle’s shoulder, “Right, Kyle?”

“Whatever,” Kyle said, eyebrows furrowed as he pushed off Stan’s arm, “I don’t care. Let’s just get studying. My quartet concert in Denver is in two weeks, so I have to stay up late practicing and don’t really want to waste time with this.”

“The weekend after this coming one?” Stan asked, taking back his arm. He sounded genuinely curious, not at all picking up on Kyle’s irritation.

“Yes,” Kyle scribbled out some incorrect notes in his notebook, “We managed to get invited to Boettcher Concert Hall for as opposed to your generic stage in the county, so it’s kind of a big deal that I don’t want to mess up. Some pretty great quartets are playing.”

“Sweet, man.”

Kenny gave an overdramatic groan. “ _ Anyway _ , what’s the difference between the four classes of coral?”

\---

“My vanilla shake tastes like strawberry,” Craig complained. They were at a McDonalds after practice. Kyle didn’t trust fast food meat and relied on ordering fries and a soda. It wasn’t kosher, but neither was school lunch. His halfhearted attempts at avoiding pork was about the extent of his kosher-ness, anyway.

“Then ask them to fix it.” Red rolled her eyes. “As long as you’re not a dick they probably won’t give a shit. But then again, that might be hard for you.”

“It’s whatever,” Craig said, his voice muffled as he chewed at his straw.

“Shakes aside,” Heidi said, quickly changing the conversation, “I was reading Red’s comment section, and several people there said they bought tickets to our concert.”

“Yeah, I did see that,” Red said with a large grin as she wrapped her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder, “I gave a little social media blast about it.”

“Even though it’s all classical shit, unlike your pop-y, algorithmically friendly shit you normally do there,” Craig said, still slurping away at his shake.

“Of course,” she said, “No false advertising from me.”

“We could probably sell out a big concert hall all on our own if we just did songs from your Youtube hits.” Craig said this to Red, but his eyes were on Kyle.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing that on your own time without me,” Kyle said. He popped a fry into his mouth but flinched at the taste. This specific McDonalds branch always made them way too salty.

“Now, that wouldn’t be the same at all!” Heidi insisted, “We wouldn’t want to without you!”

“If that’s your decision,” Kyle said, eyes locked back at Craig, “Then don’t try to guilt me.”

“God, can you two knock it off?” Red threw her crumpled up hamburger wrapper at her cousin’s head. 

“You first.” He threw it back at her and flipped her off.

“Let’s not fight a week before the concert,” Heidi said in a sterner voice than was usual for her. Especially given that it was directed towards Red as well.

“Heidi’s right.” Craig slumped in his chair and crumpled the empty paper shake cup.

\---

The night of the concert Craig was surprised to not see the usual crowd of friends of Heidi, Red, and Craig. Tweek was always a given, being Craig’s boyfriend and a musician himself, but others from their friends group at their high school would also show up on occasion. Craig’s best friend Clyde hung around a lot, as did Heidi’s friends Leslie and Isla. Though due to the nature of this concert being more highly priced and only partially featuring them, only Tweek showed up.

Kenny  _ not _ going was likewise a given. It wasn’t that he didn’t support Kyle as a friend, but for a myriad of reasons he only went once or twice in all the years to music related performances of Kyle. For one, the tickets often cost money Kenny and his family couldn’t afford. Kyle and his parents were always willing to pay or get fees waived, but Kenny didn’t like handouts from wealthier friends. Plus, classical music wasn’t his thing. All the arranging would be for something Kenny himself wouldn’t really enjoy all that much.

Kyle’s family showed up as always, though, which was something. His parents would proudly dress up. Ike would always be towed along, often spending more time chattering away with Craig’s younger sister Tricia than paying attention to the music. It was more than could be said for Red’s redneck father who was often too busy running the dinky bar in their town than to come. Sure, Craig’s parents--her aunt and uncle--were family and would bring her in his stead, but he knew it still bothered her, even if she was too prideful to outwardly show it.

Just like Kyle was too prideful to outwardly show that he didn’t have friends to support him.

“Might be our last Winter Concert together,” Red announced backstage, minutes before they were set to go on. While Kyle and Craig wore formal black collared shirts and slacks and Heidi a formal, standard black full length dress, Red always went less traditional. She wore a sleeveless black gown with a slit up one of the legs. Kyle always thought that seemed somewhat  _ dangerous  _ with her cello, but she argued the reverse, that it allowed her leg to breath. Kyle didn’t get why she didn’t wear pants instead.

Still, despite her attempts to bring sexy to orchestral music, she still held herself in a way that made it clear she was their true leader. She was, after all, the one of them who was most likely to make a serious career and name for herself in music. She was bold, she was daring, and most importantly, she was extremely talented.

Though, as Red’s words said, she was right. This was the last winter concert they’d have. The group they had formed so many years ago only had so much time left. An uncomfortable feeling of dread grew in the pit of Kyle’s stomach. The somber music being played on stage from the group before them didn’t help the mood.

When he was still in elementary school, he had a stage fright problem. Other kids always told him that playing the violin was lame. People would complain that the violin was too squeaky of an instrument, especially played by some kid. From that, he was incredibly self conscious when playing in front of others. It was something that wore off over time with more experience and more self confidence, and he rarely got at all nervous even before important auditions.

Yet this knowledge of the imminent end of an era created a feeling similar to that of stage fright. He looked over to the other three in their group. Heidi looked nervous, but she always got stage fright. Craig always looked like he didn’t care one way or another. Red had a look of confidence. Kyle smiled at her. Her energy was contagious.

The music coming from the stage ended, followed by a loud applause. It was their turn.

“Let’s do this,” Kyle said. The four all looked at each other and, once signaled, made their way out to the stage.

Tickets weren’t sold out, but that wasn’t odd for orchestra performances nowadays, especially for ones like this. Still, it was quite a decent turnout, even if it wasn’t entirely for them. Even if a lot of the ones there for them were specifically for Red. Like a professional, he avoided looking too closely at the clapping audience, but he saw his parents near Craig’s and Heidi’s families. As usual, Ike and Tricia were chattering away. Kyle couldn’t help but crack a slight smile.

As his eyes returned to the four chairs and stands already set up for them, his gaze glanced over an odd face. Not odd as in disfigured or abnormal. Odd, as in, from the corner of his eyes it looked familiar. Kyle rid the thoughts from his mind as he tightened his bow. Shaggy black hair was common.

The clapping ended and a resounding silence filled the concert hall. The four brought their instruments to their upright position. Kyle sharply exhaled  _ and-- _

The first movement,  _ Animé et très décidé. _

Kyle loved the strong impact of the first movement. The way it started in a grand unison between the four of them before slowing down and breaking them apart.

He could see from his peripheral vision Red’s grin as she played. The rich sound of her cello came through as it always did, whether she played the harmony or melody. While the lower sound of the cello often seemed to be reduced to background noise, her pitch perfect and passionate playing was a show stopper without taking over the other three.

She was rising in stardom for a reason. 

The second movement,  _ Assez vif et bien rythmé. _

A short breather and page turning in silence before they started.

The movement with the most pizzicato. Even if he loved this song, he never was a fan of plucking his strings. He recalled memories of calloused, painful fingers as a young child. His fingers were used to it now, but even still it was less  _ fun _ . He loved the passionate nature of bowing his instrument. 

The third movement, _ Andantino, doucement expressif _ .

It started with Heidi’s solo. It had some of Kyle’s favorite parts to play. It was an incredibly beautiful movement. Slow and steady, but not at all boring.

But really this movement was Craig’s chance to shine. For someone who didn’t even want to spend his life in the music career pathway, Craig managed to outshine most seasoned musicians in it. And he bowed his solos in a way that made it all seem so  _ effortless. _ Those who joked about violas were immediately put to shame once they heard him play.

The fourth and final movement,  _ Très modéré – En animant peu à peu – Très mouvementé et avec passion. _

The movement started with Red. A short solo before they all joined together. A short duet between the two cousins, the two most talented in the quartet, before joining in. The movement even had places for Heidi to shine once more.

Still, it was Kyle’s favorite part to play. He loved fast tempoed music, the feeling of his bow and fingers moving quickly. He imagined it had the same appeal of athletes who enjoyed running--though his asthma and him weren’t exactly able to relate.

The feeling of the song concluding. All the parts coming together. Something he absolutely adored about classical music, that he felt like modern music couldn’t hold a candle to. The build up. Motifs from across the piece. And then, the final few notes, all hitting in unison.

And then it was over. The audience applauded.

Kyle never said it out loud, but it always felt strange once a song was over. For those however many minutes it would be as if they were in a trance, working together. Accompanying each other, in unison with each other. But then it would be over. The trance broken, the four of them going back to their normal selves.

They stood up to take their bow. Kyle tried to suppress the emotion building inside of him as he realized once more that this would be one of the last few bows they would take.

Their spring concert would be the last. Then this era would be over.

“Yay Kyle!” a voice yelled from the clapping audience.

Kyle blinked, wondering if he misheard it. Yelling out names wasn’t exactly proper manners for orchestral music and he pretty much only heard it at his high school performances. Although it likewise wasn’t proper for him to scan the audience, he couldn’t help but do so anyway.

The shaggy haired audience member came back into his vision. It was dark, but his eyes tried to focus on the face. As his eyes met him, he saw the figure stand up and wave out his arms.

It  _ was _ him.

\---

“I...I didn’t expect you to come,” was all Kyle could say in the back of the concert hall where the backstage let out outside.

“Of course.” Stan had a goofy wide grin as he leaned against the wall.

“Are you a fan of Red’s?”.

“Red?” he asked, his head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Rebecca Tucker?” Kyle asked, placing his violin safely on the ground next to his feet, “She’s pretty big on YouTube. I know some of her fans were planning on coming.”

“Oh, the cellist?” Stan asked. He straightened up from the wall and reached into his coat pocket to take out his crinkled program. “Nah, dude, I’ll have to check her out, but I came for you!”

“Why?” His voice was blunt, his inflection making it sound like a statement instead of a question.

“Because, dude, you’re my friend! Friends support each other!”

Kyle blinked. Sure, that was a thing friends did. It was the case for the other three members of his quartet. It was the case for friends of sports stars, making their way out to their friends' games. Still, the concept of someone he had only known for a few months showing up without being explicitly invited was a foreign concept to him.

“Who’s this?” Craig asked as he walked through the doors into the chilly December air.

“Stan,” Stan answered for himself, “I go to Kyle’s school. You were really fucking incredible, dude. He always said you guys were good, but  _ damn _ .”

“Uh, thanks I guess,” Craig replied, adjusting the scarf around his neck. He turned to Kyle. “So are you gonna join us for dinner? We’re just gonna go to Denny’s.”

“And Tweek is gonna join us.” Red appeared from behind her cousin, her arms wrapping around his neck. He scowled immediately and elbowed her off. It was then Kyle noticed a somewhat annoyed Heidi carrying around both of their instruments about ten yards away at the other exit door.

“Um, sure,” Kyle said. He looked awkwardly towards Stan.

“If Tweek gets to come, so does this handsome fellow here,” Red said, winking at Stan.

“Fine, whatever.” Craig rolled his eyes and pulled at Stan’s arm before either he or Kyle could respond. “Did you drive?”

“Sorry, I bussed.”

Craig groaned. “Well, I brought the van so there should be enough space. Though I hold no liability if you’re crushed by Red’s cello.”

“And if you crush it,  _ you’re _ the liability.” Red took her heavy cello from her huffing, somewhat annoyed girlfriend’s arms.

\---

“You guys were great,” Tweek said with his sweet smile just before he took a sip of his diet coke. He leaned against Craig in the booth, who had his arm draped around his shoulder. As he put his coke down, Craig shamelessly picked it up and stole a sip from the straw.

“Thanks, Tweek,” Heidi replied with an equally sweet smile. She yelped abruptly, creating a snicker from Red. Kyle averted his gaze, not wanting to know where her hand was.

“Yeah!” Stan added in. 

Kyle was unsure how he was able to hide any feelings of awkwardness. He was with mostly strangers besides Kyle who were all paired up in obnoxiously PDA couples who couldn’t get their hands off each other. The foot distance apart between Stan and Kyle’s chair felt like an invisible yet fully tangible wall.

“I’m glad not to be the only one not from the quartet for once,” Tweek said, “Not the only groupie.”

“C’mon babe, you’re practically the fifth member.” Craig looked at Stan. “Tweek here is a killer pianist who helps us out with accompaniment and shit all the time.”

“You’re too sweet,” Tweek said before kissing Craig square on the mouth.

“Oh sweet dude,” Stan said without any reaction to the kiss, “My sister did piano for a while, but honestly she kinda sucked. I’m more into vocals.”

“You’re a singer?” Heidi asked.

“Yeah!” Stan straightened up proudly in his chair. “For a metal band.”

Craig couldn’t help but burst out in laughter.

“Something wrong with that?” Stan asked. Red smacked her cousin’s shoulder.

“No, of course not.” Craig wiped away a tear from laughter. “It’s just...You’re telling me Kyle Broflovski of all people is friends with someone in a metal band?”

“Hey, people with different interests can be friends. I may be a metalhead, but I liked  _ your  _ guys’ shit.”

“Okay, sure, for normal people you’re right. But this is... _ Kyle _ we’re talking about.”

“Craig, stop being a dick.” Red smacked him even harder.

“Yeah Craig.” Kyle crossed his arms. “Friends support each other.” He looked at Stan long and hard for a moment before continuing. “And you know what? I’ll repay it by going to Stan’s concert.”

“Holy shit, really dude?” Stan’s eyes widened.

“Yes. When is it?”

“Uhh, next Sunday. On, uh, December 22nd. I-I-I can text you the venue information. Of course. And if you need a ride, we can hook that up, too.” 

“Thanks.” Kyle gave a smug smile. Not at Stan, but at an eye-rolling Craig.

Of course, he didn’t really intend on going. December 22nd was the first night of Hanukkah, after all, and also a school night. He recognized that fact immediately after Stan said the date, but figured that later in the week he could bring that up to Stan, saying that the unfortunate date slipped his mind.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops three chapters.

“I’m sorry, I forgot that your concert was during Hanukkah.” It was a lie, but a fool proof one. Sure, Hanukkah wasn’t actually the most important holiday in Judaism, being falsely dubbed the “Jewish Christmas”, but most people didn’t realize it. Plus, his parents were always pretty big on it, not wanting him to “miss out” on a somewhat equivalent December holiday experience.

Sure, maybe it was wrong of Kyle to say he’d go when he knew it was Hanukkah the moment Stan said it. But it would likewise be wrong for Stan to be upset over what he’d probably equate to “Jewish Christmas” for a rock concert full of music Kyle viscerally had no interest in.

Plus, he was apologizing in person, wasn’t he? They already texted briefly back and forth over the weekend and Stan already accepted. Kyle was being sincere, saying it in person in Latin class. 

“Yeah, of course.” Stan was smiling. His eyes seemed sad, disappointed, but he was smiling. Most importantly, he wasn’t mad. Sometimes people would give a curt but not angry response via text, but seem mad in person. Stan directed his attention towards his class materials, pulling his looseleaf papers from his textbook. “Still wish you coulda made it,” he said, “It was a pretty fun time. A lotta kids from school were there and it was a great crowd.”

“I’m sure.” Kyle didn’t need to rummage through his things to prepare for the bell. They were already sitting neatly on his desk.

“But you know, family’s important,” Stan said, looking back to Kyle with a more genuine, yet still somewhat downtrodden smile. “I’m not some dick who doesn’t understand that sorta thing.”

“Thank you.” Kyle smiled back. The bell rang, followed by a thump from the podium as Mr. Martin tried to get the class’s attention.

\---

“What the hell was that?” Kenny said in a loud whisper. He grabbed Kyle’s arm in the hall, forcing him to follow him.

“What do you mean?” Kyle asked. He said it in a louder voice, but didn’t resist his friend’s pull.

Kenny stopped in a less crowded section of the hallway, a little bit away from the lockers. “What do I mean?” he asked incredulously, “Are you  _ kidding _ me?”

“I genuinely don’t know what you mean.” Kyle crossed his arms. He didn’t have time for this.

“Why the hell did you tell Stan you’d go to our concert?”

Kyle blinked. “Because I planned on--”

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Kenny was mad. Not the maddest Kyle had ever seen him, but mad enough to annoy him.

“I would have gone, but it was Hanukkah,” Kyle said. He raised his hands out slightly, speaking in a very slow and even tone. “You know I can’t get out of that, my mom would never let me.”

“Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Kyle’s steady tone apparently didn’t help.

“I forgo--”

“Don’t lie that you forgot.” Kenny rolled his blue eyes in a dramatic circle. “You’d  _ never _ forget shit like that, you’re a goddamn human calendar.”

Kyle had no answer to that. Kenny knew him better than anyone, which made him hard to lie to. Instead, Kyle frowned and posed a different question. “Why do you care, anyway? You didn’t invite me at all. I know you don’t care if I’m there or not. If I thought you’d care, I’d have apologized to you just like I did Stan. So, fine. I’m sorry. Are you good now?”

“It’s not  _ about _ me!”

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Sure seems like it. You’re madder than Stan was, and he’s the one who invited me.”

“Yeah, I’m mad because you fucking crushed Stan’s feelings, you fucking dense moron.”

“Why are you getting involved?” Kyle was getting annoyed. “I already spoke to him about it. I apologized. He said it was fine. We’re cool. That’s between us, and there’s no reason for you to get involved with what’s already settled.”

“Because he’s too much of a softy nice guy to let you know how much that hurt him!”

The bell rang. Kyle was late for Lit.

“Can we talk about this later--”

“No!” Kenny said.

Kyle looked around the empty hallway. “But the bell rang and--”

“Jesus, you really only care about yourself, don’t you?”

“What does that have to do with the bell ringing? We’ll  _ both _ get in trouble if we’re caught ditching.”

Kenny balled his hands into fists and bit his lower lip as if to prevent himself from yelling. Instead, he walked right past Kyle, hitting his shoulder. There was enough room in the empty hallway, and Kyle couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You’re acting like a little kid.”

Kenny stopped. He turned his head around slightly. “This is why people don’t wanna hang out with you, you know,” he said, “You only think about yourself and what  _ you _ want, but never about anyone else. You never make compromises for other people.

Okay,  _ that _ irritated Kyle.

“Are you  _ kidding me _ ?” Kyle’s voice raised for the first time in the conversation. He was going to say that the only reason he took marine science was for Kenny. How he pretended like he needed to study as an excuse to hang out with him, to help him. He could have taken an AP class to help boost his college applications. 

But he didn’t. Even through his anger, he knew if he said that it would probably damage his friendship with Kenny. And even if his words were hurtful, he knew Kenny was also speaking out of anger. He was his best friend, after all.

Kyle inhaled deeply.

“Fine,” he said to Kenny, “You’re right, it was wrong of me. I’ll try to speak to Stan some more.”

Kenny’s anger subsided as well. It was clear he was somewhat skeptical of Kyle’s words, but just as Kenny was Kyle’s best friend, Kyle was Kenny’s.

“Please do.”

\---

Kyle thought long and hard about what Kenny said during Lit. Thankfully, due to being a perfect student, he was able to enter the class saying he was in the restroom without getting in trouble. He tried to focus on the lecture about Heart of Darkness, but even if his mind wasn’t otherwise occupied it was hard. It was a terrible book that was way too imperialist for his tastes. He read it, and knew exactly how to answer a potential question on the AP test, so there was no real need to pay attention.

So instead, he let his mind wander to the whole situation going on.

He didn’t agree completely with what he said. He didn’t think a concert was  _ that _ big a deal, and he was pretty sure as someone who did concerts on a regular basis without friends attending he was qualified to have an opinion on it.

A lot of their friends went. Kyle almost always had none. Stan was an exception.

But then, the “Stan being an exception” did make Kenny’s point more valid. Stan reached out to do something nice, something that pretty much none of his friends, including Kenny, were willing to do.

But the thing was, he  _ couldn’t _ have gone no matter how much he desperately wanted to. His mom would have never allowed it during Hanukkah. Or at least, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t. He never asked.

Still, the offer to go was more than he intended. He was showing that he appreciated the favor, right? Even if he couldn’t go, he expressed interest. It was him being nice to Stan.

But…

It really had nothing to do with Stan, did it? It was about Craig. Craig insulted him, goaded him on, and Kyle only said he’d attend to show off to him.

And he didn’t intend on going. Even if it weren’t Hanukkah, he likely would have found an excuse. He could have said on the spot that he wanted to but had other plans. It wouldn’t have been as much as a show off to Craig, but it would have still shown interest. He could have told Stan later that night.

Sure, he meant to tell Stan earlier than he did. But he didn’t. He didn’t even think about it enough to do so.

Okay, Kenny was right. It  _ was _ wrong of him. He abused Stan’s kindness to win a petty argument with someone else. Stan didn’t deserve that.

He would make it up to Stan, he decided. He wasn’t going to fess up to it being a broken promise from the beginning more to do with Craig than Stan, but that would only hurt his feelings more.

No, he would instead make up for it by being a better friend. In his own way. He’d sit by him in lunch and pretend to pay attention while he’d drone on about the band or the concert. He would nod his head and give proper “uh-huhs” and “that’s nice” on command. Maybe he’d take up more of his offers to hang out, at least for a while.

But when he entered the cafeteria and went to the lunch table, there was already a snag in his plan. Stan sat at the end of the table and the spot next to him was already occupied by Wendy Testaburger. Across from him sat Butters, Jimmy, and Kenny, people who probably  _ wanted _ to sit near Stan. Even worse, there was room two people down from Wendy, meaning there was no reason for Stan to try to force space.

Well, Kyle could ask them to. But it would probably come across as rude. Especially because the empty spot was across from Kenny.

Kyle sighed. He could talk to him later. He placed his tray down at the free spot at the table.

“It’s a shame you couldn’t come,” Wendy said to Kyle the moment he sat down. Kyle thought it was a little weird  _ she _ was saying it over one of the band members. He shrugged.

“Hanukkah.”

“Yeah, that c-c-can’t be helped,” Jimmy said.

“Oh yeah, of course!” Wendy said, her eyes growing large. Someone like her was probably the  _ last _ to try and shame someone for cultural or religious obligations. She was very political like that. “But still, understanding aside, we missed you! We were having a lot of fun in the audience.”

“I’m sure.” Kyle opened his milk and took a drink.

“Totally,” Bebe said from next to Wendy.

“What happened, happened,” Stan said, “There’s always others.”

“And you can be rest assured that I’ll be at every single one of them!” Wendy giggled. It wasn’t a normal giggle, which Kyle immediately took notice of. It was the sort of forced, cutesy giggle Heidi would give. Once upon a time when they dated in middle school, but even more so to Red after they started dating. He subtly but not so subtly crocked his head towards her and Stan, a somewhat awkward thing to do sitting on the same lunch bench.

Still, he got a good enough view. She was pressed up against him. It was by no means aggressive or blatantly romantic. Still, she made it seem like she had less space than she actually did. She could have scooted a little to the left, but instead sat in a way that made it seem she was pushed up against him. Bebe’s positioning played into it. As her best friend, she was likely in on it. Actually, knowing Bebe, it was likely her idea and her pressuring Wendy into it.

Stan seemed passive on it. He said “thank you” to her insistence on it and gave a smile that looked innocent. He didn’t look at all uncomfortable. Yet, as a teenage boy, he didn’t seem as into it as other teenage boys would, such as Kenny with any girl of the week, or Craig and Tweek.

Wendy was an okay person. She was intelligent and pretty enough. She was friendly to everyone. He thought she was a good person objectively, and although he didn’t really want to hang out with her, he didn’t mind her presence whenever he was around her.

“Bebe, scoot over, you’re pushing Stan and me off the bench,” Wendy told her friend. It was said genuinely, not something at all coy. Bebe obliged, causing a chain reaction to push against Kyle slightly.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t intentionally pressed against Stan. He suddenly felt guilty. Who was he to assume that a girl and guy sitting next to each other meant anything? A girl can laugh at someone without being into them, right? Here he was, projecting stereotypes and jumping to conclusions about Wendy’s feelings.

He decided to dismiss this train of thought from his head.

\---

“Hope you don’t mind, I brought Wendy along.”

Frankly, Kyle  _ did _ mind. Wendy was in AP Chem, not marine science. Stan was already an addition to Kenny’s and Kyle’s study sessions. There was no real reason for her to be there in the library with them.

“I needed to come down here to work on my psychology project,” she said, “Our teacher was pretty strict on having us get physical book sources for our project.”

“In the age of technology?” Kenny asked, an eyebrow raised as he leaned back in his chair.

“Believe me, I know.” She rolled her big brown eyes, exasperated. “Ms. Johnson is  _ so _ old fashioned.”

“Isn’t she in her 70s?” Kenny asked, “Why doesn’t she retire already.”

“Don’t be an ageist,” Kyle playfully shoved him. He was joking, mostly.

“Yeah, I don’t mean it like that,” she said, “But Stan said he was coming to the library, so I decided to come along, too.”

“We’re studying for marine science,” Kyle said flatly.

“And I won’t get in your way,” she insisted.

“I don’t see a problem,” Kenny said. He leaned forward in his chair, the front legs hitting the ground again with a slightly too loud thump.

Kyle  _ did _ see a problem. It was rude to invite herself to a group of friends hanging out. Or if Stan invited her, he should have asked first. Either way...sure, Kenny would have likely said yes immediately, but it was the courtesy of a heads up that counted.

But instead, he stayed silent.

“Good,” she said, flashing her brilliant white teeth. She placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder where he sat. “I’ll be right back, going to use the computer system for a minute.”

“Okay,” Stan said. He was smiling.

Maybe Kyle  _ did _ have a problem with Wendy.

\---

“I think the concert went well,” Heidi said, “We all worked hard and it paid off.”

“Except where Kyle played off tempo too fast,” Craig said, tightening his bow. Kyle knew he was lying. They were all perfectly on tempo.

“No, you were playing too slow for parts,” Kyle bluffed. Craig rolled his eyes.

“You know, if Craig wasn’t as obsessed with Tweek as he is, I’d make so many jokes about you two,” Red said, plopping her stand in front of her chair. Craig flipped her off, to which she ignored him. “But Heidi’s right,” she continued, settling into her seat, “We did good.”

“Just one more left now,” Kyle said somewhat absentmindedly as he took out his tuner. He wished he had perfect pitch like Red. He didn’t notice the silence that grew across the room until he looked up and saw the other three’s expressions. Well, mostly the two girls’.

“Well, we don’t know that for  _ sure _ ,” Heidi said, trying her best to do so with an upbeat tone and forced smile.

“Sure we do,” he said, pulling his violin up to his shoulder. His hands stiffened. “But let’s make the most of the time we have left.”

\---

“Hey Kyle.”

“Oh. Hi Wendy.” He wasn’t sure why she was joining him in the practice room. Sure, she played the violin in the school orchestra, but she wasn’t nearly as into it as Kyle was, opting to practice with her circle of friends or at home. Kyle likewise took solace in having the third practice room to himself during the Thursday study hour. Sure it was more like a large closet, but it had decent acoustics and it was the one time he could be alone with his violin.

“Do you mind if I practice here with you?”

“It’s not my room to claim.” He shrugged. He wanted to say no, but he knew he really couldn’t. One Thursday wouldn’t kill him. Plus, it really  _ wasn’t _ his room to claim.

“Great!” she said with a large grin on her face. She pulled over a chair. “Excited for our last winter concert next week?

“Not really,” he said a little too bluntly.

“Oh?” she asked, tilting her head. Her silky black hair fell to the side like a dark waterfall. “I thought you loved orchestra.”

“I do,” he said, tightening his bow, “But honestly...not the school orchestra as much.”

“Oh?” she asked again, “How come?”

He knew it would be rude to point out the fact that he thought the school orchestra was sub-par. How he didn’t take them seriously at all. 

“I prefer playing in small groups, I guess,” he said instead. It wasn’t a lie.

“I see.” She unzipped her instrument loudly. “You know, Stan told me all about your concert. He said you were great.”

“Did he?”

“Yes!” she said, “He’s a rocker, but he’s interested in orchestra. I told him I’d even teach him a little violin.”

A weird feeling grew in Kyle’s stomach. He wasn’t sure what it was.

Maybe he didn’t want Stan to start associating the violin with a mediocre musician like Wendy. She wasn’t horrible, being third chair. Maybe enough to get a scholarship. But nothing like his quartet. She wasn’t Julliard quality.

“I see.”

“Yeah! And I bought him a ticket to our concert! My family’s gonna give him a ride.”

The weird feeling grew.

“Cool.”

“Anyway,” she began applying rosin to her bow. There was already way too much, her bow overly chalky. “You’re good friends with him, right?”

“I...I guess, so?”

A smile grew across her face. “So...does he ever talk about me?”

“Not really.”

Her smile fell. She began to pluck at her strings. Pretty cheap strings. Her instrument wasn’t to professional standards.

Kyle felt bad. Sure, Stan didn’t really mention her. But on the other hand, he didn’t really mention anyone when they were talking. Even Kenny or his other band members, who he clearly liked.

“But um...it’s not like he hates you or anything. He doesn’t really talk about others in general.”

A smile on her face grew back. Although Kyle knew he said the right thing, he couldn’t help but instantly regret it.

“Wanna practice together?” she asked. Kyle nodded. They were playing a Disney medley. How trite. 

\---

“Do you ever find yourself not liking someone for no real reason?” Kyle asked.

“All the time,” Craig said, slurping his cake batter shake. Just looking at it made Kyle want to throw up, with all the sugar and sprinkles in it. Denny’s was his least favorite place for them to show up after practice.

“I think you’re the worst person to answer that,” Red said.

“He asked,” he shrugged, the plastic straw still between his teeth.

“I think it’s normal,” Heidi said, “Though I don’t think deep down there’s ever  _ no _ reason. Either it’s a personal bias that’s unfair, or there’s a problem with them that you are only subconsciously aware of.”

“I agree,” Tweek added. He ordered a salad. Of course a skinny twig like him would. He poured a little more ranch on it and took a bite. “Though I also think there’s a third reason. Sometimes you don’t  _ want _ to like one.”

“Doesn’t that go along with Heidi’s personal bias theory?” Craig raised an eyebrow. He ordered waffles and bacon, full of syrup. Kyle couldn’t understand how he could tolerate that mixed with a cake batter shake. His own set of pancakes with just a dash of syrup was already a little rich for him.

“Well, no,” Tweek said. He stole one of his boyfriend’s bacon. After a bite he cringed, reaching for a napkin to wipe off some of the globs of syrup. “You can have a personal bias because you think they’re ugly, their voice is grating, or maybe the person is racist or something. But you can decide you don’t  _ want _ to like someone outside of that. Like maybe you decided you already have your group of friends and don’t need more. Or maybe you  _ want _ an enemy or rival. I don’t know.”

“Sure,” Heidi said. She ordered a fairly normal sandwich. “But regardless, I think there’s always a reason deep down. It’s a matter of figuring out if it’s justified or not.”

“Maybe I’m more like my cousin in that sometimes I just don’t like someone and that’s that.” She ordered a vegan burger. Kyle wasn’t sure if she was really going to become a vegan or just testing the waters.

“Yeah, liking a smaller set of people is less annoying. Who cares about my reason.”

“Because it’s unfair to perfectly nice people!” Tweek scolded him. He stole another piece of bacon just for that.

“But--”

“What if you decided for no reason to not like  _ me _ ?”

“To be fair, when I first met you I did.” Tweek’s eyes widened. Craig laughed and continued, “But babe, you proved yourself as being  _ not _ an annoying prick, so I ended up liking you. You earned it.”

“So you’re saying I have to  _ earn _ it?”

“Oh, c’mon babe, that’s not what I mean!”

“Look what you did,” Red said to Kyle, snickering, “Breaking the two lovebirds up.”

Kyle doubted it. Tweek and Craig would argue on occasion, sometimes incredibly over dramatically, but they’d always make up. Always. And then they’d be more obnoxious of a pair than ever.

Plus, they didn’t really solve his dilemma.

“So, do you have a problem with someone?” Heidi asked, completely ignoring the bickering couple next to her.

“I...I don’t know.” Kyle shrugged. He took a drink of his coke. “Maybe. I have no reason to dislike her, but I’m also not sure if I  _ actually _ dislike her.”

“ _ Her?” _ Red raised an eyebrow in interest.

“No, nothing like  _ that _ . I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“Clearly it does if you’re bringing it up.” Red was always so nosy.

“If he doesn’t want to talk about it, don’t pressure him.” Heidi poked her girlfriend’s nose. Unlike Craig and Tweek, they were a lot better at handling themselves, less inclined to burst into melodramatic arguments over nothing.

“If you say so.” Red leaned back in her chair and took a bite of a fry. Next to her, Craig and Tweek were making out.

\---

“Man, it’s weird to think about how the two of us have never really hung out like this.”

“I’m usually really busy.”

“I know,” Stan said, “And that’s cool.” He turned towards Kyle and smiled. “But still.”

Stan invited him that Friday night to go into Denver to an outdoor skating rink. Kyle had never done such a thing, but figured that it would be tolerable. Plus, it was the winter season, wasn’t it? This was a thing to do.

“How’d you do on your final exams?” Stan asked, breaking the silence as they walked down the cold sidewalk towards the rink. It was crowded outside, which should be expected of Denver on a Friday night. Kyle didn’t go downtown often. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, he could appreciate a cityscape, his family simply didn’t make it out there much.

“Alright,” he said. He was distracted by the city lights. Even if he was the Jewish kid who didn’t celebrate Christmas, he always loved the way cities and towns lit up in December. Or maybe it was  _ because _ it was a taboo for him that he appreciated it all the more. 

It wasn’t snowing, but there had been snow earlier that day. The sidewalks were shoveled, gross brown snow lining them nearly taking away from the image. Still, it was a pretty sight, and a small layer of unshoveled snow less than a centimeter thick created a crunch under their feet.

“Just got your orchestra concert tomorrow, right?” Stan asked.

“Yeah. But the school orchestra is basically nothing.”

“Wendy seems excited about it.”

“Because that’s the highlight of her music career.”

“Ouch, dude.” He made it clear Kyle’s words were harsh, but he let out a half-nervous laugh anyway.

“What?” Kyle asked, looking away from lights that glittered along the trees. “It’s true. She’s not a professional musician. She doesn’t have other concerts.”

“I dunno man, I don’t think it makes it any less valuable, I think.” Stan shrugged. “We’re not playing Aftershock, but that doesn’t make our dinky venues less important to us.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Stan laughed harder and hit him on the back, padded by his thick coat. 

Colorado winters were cold and snowy, and Kyle had his fair share of thick winter coats. He wore a thermal orange coat like he so often did, making him feel as though he had a layer of pillows around him. Stan, on the other hand, opted for layers. He had a black sweatshirt on and several long sleeves underneath. Yet even with layers, it seemed too thin for Kyle. 

He was fairly certain that St. Louis wasn’t as cold as Colorado. It wasn’t as though Stan was from Alaska or even one of the more northern states. Yet he smiled, seeming not at all concerned by the cold. 

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing you guys play. I’m sure your quartet is better, but I’d be down to watch my friends even if they suck hard, y’know?”

“But if they suck, wouldn’t it be a headache?” Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“No, because it’s my friends. I love supporting my bros. And if they’re doing what they love, even if they’re shit it’s chill.” He shoved into Kyle as they walked. “Though of course you guys were  _ actually _ really fucking good.”

“Thanks.” He grew quiet for a minute. “You know, my family can give you a ride tomorrow. I don’t want you to have to bus it out like you did before.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Wendy’s family offered to drive me.”

“I see.” His eyes drifted to a string of lights above them, connected between street lights. Despite how freezing it was outside, it really was beautiful.

“Sorry, it’s super Christmasy here,” Stan said, “Hope it’s not sacrilegious.”

Kyle chuckled. “No, nothing like that. Christmas is impossible to avoid in December, but even so, my Jewish self won’t implode when I see a Christmas tree and my ears don’t bleed if some conservative insists on saying Merry Christmas over Happy Holidays. Plus--” He paused for a moment. “I really don’t get why we Jews don’t incorporate Christmas lights. I mean Christians stole from Pagan Yule, why can’t we steal some of your better holiday ideas as well?”

“I’m not particularly religious, so I say go ahead.”

Kyle smiled. “I mean, I like Hanukkah a lot. I used to feel cheated in elementary school, but now I don’t. I prefer Purim as far as Jewish Holidays go, but getting presents for a whole week is pretty nice.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of Purim,” Stan admitted. His phone GPS spoke, and he guided them to make a right on the sidewalk. “I barely know anything about Hanukkah.”

“You’re always welcome to join us at my house during our holidays, if you want. My mom would like that.”

“Sounds sweet.” Stan’s smile widened. “Teach me your Jewish ways. Maybe I’ll even turn Jewish.”

Kyle laughed. “It’s not like Christianity--you can’t just  _ decide _ to be Jewish. I mean you can convert, but it’s a long process. Often even a year or longer.”

“Well, you never know. Maybe I’ll be willing.” Kyle knew he was teasing and playfully shoved him. “But anyway,” Stan continued, “I’d turn around and invite you for Christmas, but we’re going back to St. Louis for the holidays. Since my old as shit Grandpa’s going we gotta drive. Thank fuck my sister is in school in Missouri, because being in a car for 12 hours with my dad, grandpa,  _ and _ her would be a fucking nightmare.”

“Do you miss St. Louis?” Kyle asked, “You don’t talk about it much.”

“Less to talk about, I guess. I’m from the suburbs, and people from there don’t really go to the city much, unless it’s for baseball or the zoo or arch or whatever. It’s still segregated as fuck. I like how South Park has a wider variety of people beyond white bread and how people don’t act like the city itself is poison.”

“And your friends?”

“I mean sure,” he shrugged. He lightly punched Kyle. “But I made new friends here.”

“I see.” Kyle looked away. A weird feeling swelled up inside of him.

“But yeah, I like Colorado. You know, even if I lived a lot closer to the city in St. Louis, here in Denver I actually feel like I can actually  _ experience _ the city.”

“Well, I rarely come here. Usually it’s for music related reasons,” Kyle admitted, “So I’m not much of a guide, but...if you want someone to experience things with for a first time…”

“I’ll hit you up!” Stan wrapped his arm around Kyle’s shoulder. A feeling of warmth spread across Kyle’s face. It was reminiscent of embarrassment, but it felt different somehow.

Suddenly, the sound of Christmas music grew loud. Kyle could hear the sound of skates scraping the ice, and the collection of bright lights around made it apparent that it was the rink.

“It’s right ahead,” Kyle said, pointing ahead and moving faster, leaving Stan’s subtle grip.

“Sweet,” Stan said, keeping up the pace.

The outdoor rink was decently crowded, which should have been a given for a Friday night close to Christmas. It was decorated with twinkling lights, with a ceiling of strands laced above the rink itself. The Christmas music was loud, but the sound of laughs and blades against the ice were equally loud. Although there was a child crying from a fall, it was overwhelmingly a place of joy.

“Let’s get rentals,” Kyle said, pointing to the little stand selling them. It was crowded with a decent line and people sitting on the benches putting their skates either on or off. A preteen girl tripped trying to walk on the normal ground with her blades, though quickly laughed it off and got back up.

“Oh, I have skates,” Stan said, lifting up his backpack, “Though I’ll wait in the rental area with you.”

“You’re a skater?” Kyle asked, “Now I’ll look especially bad.”

Stan laughed, “Nah, don’t worry about it. And yeah, I played hockey from elementary through freshman year.”

“Jock.”

Stan laughed even harder. “I guess I used to be. But it wasn’t really my thing.” He put his backpack on a free space on a bench and pulled out two large, black hockey skates. Much larger and nicer looking than the rental skates the majority of people had, although they lacked the ridge toe pick. “My dad put me in hockey, football, baseball, all of that, but sophomore year I finally managed to get out of it.” He held up his skates high. “Though I still like to skate sometimes.”

“I see.” Kyle wasn’t sure what else to say to that. “Well, I can get my own rental skates. Why don’t you wait in the ticket line?”

“Sure.”

The line for the rental skates was decently long, but moved quite fast. His shoe size was out at the moment, so he went a size down. The shoes were smelly and he felt they were unsanitary, but unlike how he’d complain when bowling with friends, this time he kept his mouth shut. They were tight on his feet, but he figured he could survive.

“Do you know how to put them on?” Stan asked, already fully in his skates.

“I’m not five.” Kyle frowned. Stan laughed and reached out his hand to help Kyle up. Kyle didn’t want to take it, but did anyway. As he stood he almost immediately stumbled, making him glad Stan was there to grab onto after all.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay near the edge.” Stan found Kyle’s stumbling incredibly amusing. Kyle would have shoved him for it, had he not needed him stable.

The ice was slippery. He quickly gripped the edge of the wall. He looked to Stan, who stood confidently on the ice.

He must look like an idiot.

“Just one foot in front of the other,” Stan instructed. Kyle froze for a moment but nodded. He put his left foot forward, then his right. He nearly slipped, but he grabbed the wall and felt Stan grab his arm.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Stan said, helping him straighten up, “Do you wanna hold on to me.”

Kyle looked at him. Stan held his arm out. He held it out in a weirdly ambiguous way. Like he could grab either his hand or his forearm. 

“I--” Kyle bit his lip. He decided to grip onto Stan’s forearm.

Stan took his time leading the way, telling Kyle which foot to move and did so to the beat of the upbeat Christmas music. Kyle nearly stumbled a few more times, but Stan caught him every time.

As the song changed to a faster paced song--The Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Carol of the Bells, Stan led them to the wall to stop for a moment. “Wanna speed up?” he asked.

“No.”

“C’mon, you can do it.”

“I--” But before he could protest further, Stan pulled him back to the center of the rink. The speed they were going created the same sensation in his stomach as a roller coaster, although somehow even more nerve wracking.

“You’re picking this up fast!” Stan said, his voice raised to overcome the sounds around them.

“Am I?” he asked. He felt like he was bad at this, but maybe he was a fast learner. He smiled. Maybe he could--

Kyle hit a snag in the ice. He grabbed tightly on Stan to try and stable himself. He grabbed onto his sweatshirt with his freehand. Yet this didn’t work, he merely pulled them both down to the ice.

The hard cold ice  _ hurt _ . He managed to catch part of his fall with his hand, which created an ice burn that slightly tore his palm. He realized his other hand was still firmly gripped on Stan’s hoody. 

“I-I’m sorry!” Kyle pulled his hand away from him as if he were a hot stove. 

“Don’t worry, man!” Stan said. He was able to stand up impressively fast and brushed ice off of his pants. He reached a hand out. Kyle grabbed it, but his feeble attempts to stand up ended up pulling Stan back down on the ice.

“Sorry!”

Stan laughed. “Nah, man, it’s cool!” He stood back up and this time more meticulously told Kyle how to angle his feet and stand up.

Although Kyle’s poor skating skills were embarrassing, it was one of the most fun evenings he could ever remember. Stan was probably just being friendly, but he had the decency to not make fun of him the entire time and remained patient with him. When their hour they paid for ran out, they made their way out of the rink.

“That was fun,” Stan said, wiping off his skates and putting them in his backpack, “You weren’t bad for a first timer.”

“Thanks.” Kyle didn’t believe him, but he appreciated it.

“You tired?” he asked, “I don’t wanna keep you out all night if you don’t want, but there’s all this Christmas shit going on that looks pretty sweet. I mean, I know you don’t do Christmas, but--”

“Yeah, we can walk around for a while,” Kyle cut him off with a smile.

“Okay, cool!”

Denver really went all out for Christmastime. Of course, Christmas lights were impossible to avoid, but his family never went out their way to see them like other families. There were strings of lights everywhere, statue-like decorations, and Christmas trees in every store. There were horse drawn carriages going up and down the streets and while Kyle always wanted to ride one, his pride prevented him from bringing it up.

“It’s starting to snow again,” Stan said, holding out his palms to the sky.

“You’re right.” Kyle looked up and saw the small cotton ball-like snowflakes fall towards the ground.

“I love the snow,” Stan said, his voice sounding weirdly distant, “A plus to Colorado, I think.”

“I guess I take it for granted,” Kyle admitted.

“That’s cool. But…” He pulled up his phone and opened the weather app. “As much as this winter wonderland shit complete with snow is the best, we gotta drive back. The roads and all…”

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

\---

Kyle woke up the next morning without a good night’s sleep. He always tried to sleep well before a performance, even if it was only for his high school. He didn’t get nervous like others, so he never had trouble doing this before.

And to be fair, it still  _ wasn’t _ due to nervousness. It was that he couldn’t stop thinking about hanging out with Stan.

He wouldn’t have ever done that with Kenny. He was too poor to agree to make it out to Denver based on gas prices alone, and there was no way that he would ever agree to let Kyle pay for anything. Plus, he felt that skating and looking at lights wasn’t really his thing.

Maybe he’d do it with his quartet. But they didn’t really go out and  _ do  _ things. They went to an indoor roller skating rink once back in middle school and they went bowling a few times before they all decided that bowling was boring. Yet usually they were either playing music or taking their time at some restaurant.

Kyle didn’t really think that much about how he didn’t  _ go out _ as much as other high schoolers. He went to the mall and hung out in the park with Kenny’s larger group of friends. He went to the library with Kenny. He’d see movies with his family. Literally speaking, he was out of his house quite a lot. Especially for music, something he was passionate about.

But it was after last night that he realized he didn’t  _ do things _ . He didn’t go to sports games, to school dances, to concerts, to seasonal events. He hadn’t been on a date since Heidi, and to be honest their innocent ideas of a date probably didn’t even count.

His high school experience was close to being over. Did he waste it all away? 

No, he decided. Not exactly. He still had roughly five months left. And he had fun with Stan. A  _ lot _ of fun with Stan, even  _ with _ the embarrassment of his poor skating.

It was more that he wondered where Stan had been the first seventeen years of his life. He had a feeling if Stan had been there from the beginning, his life would have been incredibly different. 

“Kyle!” Ike banged on his door. “Mom made pancakes.”

“Coming!” He had been awake for a while, but hadn’t yet gotten out of bed. He quickly sat up and ran his fingers through his hair before making his way through the door and down the stairs to the kitchen. Ike raced after him, treating it as a race even though Kyle didn’t intend for that.

“Morning, boys!” Their mother was already completely dressed, her hair up in her usual style, as she placed a plate of pancakes and eggs on the table. They smelled good, and Kyle knew they likely tasted even better. She was always a good cook.

“Morning,” Kyle said, taking his seat.

“You were out late last night,” she said.

A fear grew through his body. His mother was notoriously strict. He was hoping she didn’t notice how late he came home that night. He heard her frequently yell at Ike every time he came late, lecturing him for hours. However, she didn’t text him at all last night, leading him to believe that she already fell asleep. When he came home the house was dark except for the front porch left on for him, and he silently made it to his bedroom without any trouble.

“I was--I’m sorry, I was with Stan. We were--”

“I know, hon,” she said, “You don’t have to explain.”

“What?” Ike complained with a mouthful of pancakes, “That’s not fair! You always yell at me when--”

“There is a difference between a senior in high school and an eight grader” she hit Ike’s head with her napkin as she walked by him, “And he was with that Stan boy. I know his parents, they’re a nice family.”

“But--!”

“I don’t have to worry about Kyle,” she said, “Maybe if you stop messing around and take after him more, by the time you’re a senior I’ll let you have the same freedoms as him.”

Kyle tried to suppress a schadenfreude smile. It was true, Ike had his rebellious phases and while his parents loved him just as much as Kyle, he wasn’t exactly the most responsible or trustworthy teen. Maybe being an overly goody-two shoes up until that point really  _ did _ help Kyle.

“Whatever,” Ike rolled his eyes, pouring even more syrup on his pancakes. Just like Craig, completely drowning him.

“Do you want some more pancakes for that syrup, Ike?” their father said, walking into the dining room drowsily in his bathrobe. Ike frowned and put the bottle down.

Kyle chuckled.

\---

The school concert was at a local community theatre. It was small without too many seats, but then again South Park was a small town with a small school with a small orchestra. Unlike other schools with separate orchestras by level or grade, South Park High had just one and shared the concert with the concert band, choir, and small jazz band club.

“Kyle doesn’t even care about high school concerts, so why should I have to go?” Ike slouched in the back seat of the car.

“Don’t be rude, Ike,” their father scolded, looking back at him through the rearview mirror, “And buckle your seatbelt.”

“ _ Fine _ ,” he groaned. With a roll of his eyes he buckled his seat with a click.

To be honest, Kyle didn’t really care about Ike’s demeanor. He never complained about going to his  _ real _ concerts and truth be told, he felt similar. He wouldn’t be the least bit offended by his brother not attending

“Oh, c’mon boys, it’ll be  _ fun _ ,” their mother insisted as they pulled out of the driveway. Kyle and Ike both remained silent.

When they arrived just a few minutes later at the venue, there was already a sea of teenagers in black. Mostly frumpy black outfits that people scoured department stores for to fit the dress code, complete with completely mismatched winter coats on top. 

“We’ll let you off out front and look for parking,” his father said as he pulled to the curb.

Kyle thanked them as he grabbed his instrument and music binder and jumped out into the front lawn of the theatre building. A few people waved at him, to which he merely nodded slightly in return.

“There’s the star,” one student said, somewhat snarkily. Kyle ignored him and continued towards the back of the building to enter. They were all going to harm their instruments staying out in the cold. Plus, the lawn was muddy from the partially melted snow. He could feel it caking his shoes as he walked.

“Kyle!” a familiar feminine voice called out. He tried to suppress a groan and tightened his grip on his instrument and binder as he tried to pretend like he didn’t hear. To his dismay, he heard the sound of running footsteps against the slosh of snow.

“Kyle!” Wendy called again. It was too loud and close to him to ignore.

“Hi Wendy.” He turned around, his cold breath creating a cloud that partially obstructed her from vision. But she was still there. Next to Bebe, a choir member, as could be expected. And...Stan.

“Hey,” Stan said with a crooked smile and relaxed wave. Kyle didn’t know how to respond.

“Our last concert, huh?” Bebe said, nudging against him with her shoulder. She knocked his violin slightly, which made him instantly grimace. “Isn’t it great that Wendy managed to drag Stan out to watch us?

“I’m  _ glad  _ to,” Stan said.

“Of course,” Bebe said, her voice in an annoyingly suggestive tone, “For Wendy, huh?”

Wendy frowned at her friend. Stan looked confused.

“I’d be happy to come for any of you.”

Bebe’s smile faltered for the slightest second before returning. She grabbed Kyle by the arm and pulled him along. “The two of us are going to go on ahead. I want to talk to Kyle for a minute.” Kyle thought about resisting, but her grip was tighter than her fake happy expression. He didn’t want to talk to her, but he  _ did _ want to go inside. So he followed her, going around the side of the building and to the back door entrances. There were a few others strangling around at the door who waved at Bebe. She greeted them back, but kept her grip and pace strong on Kyle.

“What do you want, Bebe?” he finally asked near the entrance of the back of the theatre. People were coming in and out, so it wasn’t exactly private. On the other hand, they weren’t  _ staying _ there unlike them, so it was unlikely people would bother to eavesdrop. Plus, the feeling of the indoor heating was incredibly nice.

“So, you’re close with Stan, right?”

“That’s direct.”

“Well, you are...right?”

Kyle paused for a moment. 

He kind of was, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that long ago at all that he couldn’t stand Stan. He had a terrible first impression of him when he first staggered into Marine Science. He was annoyed with Kenny for including him. He was annoyed with Stan for pestering him into an attempted friendship. 

But...They were friends now, weren’t they? He  _ liked _ Stan. He  _ liked  _ hanging out with him. This wasn’t a new realization by any means, but it was still impressive to Kyle how Stan managed to go from his number one annoyance to gradually breaking him down by saying and doing the right things.

“Yes, I guess so.”

“Cool.” Bebe smiled. “So he talks to you about people, right? Is he saying anything about girls he likes or whatever?”

Kyle looked at Bebe straight on. She was a very pretty, very popular girl by all means. Still, her words were surprising to him. “You like Stan?” he asked.

“No, silly,” she said, playfully smacking his shoulder, “ _ Wendy  _ does.”

Oh. That... _ that _ made more sense. Wendy was around him a lot, wasn’t she. She--

“Anyway, does Stan talk about her?” Bebe interrupted his silent train of thought.

Kyle blinked. “Um...Not more than most people.”

Bebe looked disappointed. Still, she inhaled, straightening up. “Well, can you do me a solid and put in a good word for her?”

“You want me to set them up?” It was a question, but his tone made it sound like a statement.

Of course Wendy liked him. He suspected as much a few times. The way she hung around him, invited herself to things. Invited  _ him  _ to things. 

But did Stan like her? He was less certain of this. He was telling the truth, he  _ didn’t _ talk about Wendy much, and if he did it was more factual statements that didn’t show any real sign of feelings for her one way or another. But then, Stan didn’t seem to be into anyone  _ else _ did he?

He imagined the two of them together. Like Craig and Tweek. Like Red and Heidi. Like Kenny and whatever girl of the week he was on. Or like any of the straight couples who littered their high school hallway. He pictured Stan and Wendy, holding hands. Kissing. Being obnoxious and PDA.

He didn’t like the mental image at all.

“Well, would you?” Bebe asked. Her tone was sweeter, and despite her overall fakeness he could tell she was being genuine. Wendy was her best friend, after all. She wanted what she thought was best for her.

But what would be best for Stan?

He had an unfounded distaste for Wendy, but was it fair? Should personal feelings get in the way of Stan’s potential happiness? He had no logical reason to dislike Wendy. He had no reason to believe she’d be  _ bad _ for him. He didn’t like the idea at all... _ but _ .

“ _ Hello _ , Earth to Kyle?” Bebe waved her hand in front of him.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

\---

The concert went about as well as he expected. And by that, he mostly went on auto pilot. He played perfectly, of course, while the rest of the orchestra had issues with matching tempo. But it was whatever, he didn’t care. The jazz band was always decent enough, but he mostly tuned out the concert band and choir as he patiently sat in the backstage area. He held tightly onto his instrument, his mind weirdly blank.

Although it dragged on, the concert finally ended. He was ready to go home, but not before he had some surprises.

“What are you doing here?” Kyle asked, more dumbfounded than he had been to any of Stan’s appearances at his concerts.

“Are you kidding me?” Red asked, “You being forced to play a basic Disney Medley is the best Saturday night entertainment I can think of.”

“We also wanted to support you,” Heidi cut in.

“But how did you know about it?” he asked. His quartet, plus Tweek, never came to any of his school performances before, but then Kyle never mentioned them. To be honest, he found them so embarrassing that he didn’t  _ want _ them to go.

“Stan texted me asking if I was coming,” Craig said with a shrug, “He gave me his number back when I met. I told the rest about it and we decided to come and surprise you.”

Kyle blinked.

“I mean, like Red said,” Craig continued, “It’s pretty fucking funny to see you play a for-schools arrangement of Disney songs with people who can barely even hold their instruments correctly.”

“You did well though,” Heidi quickly added.

“Yeah, Craig, they’re not bad for a school orchestra,” Tweek said, giving his boyfriend a disapproving look.

“Whatever.” Craig rolled his eyes. “Where did Stan run off to, anyway? We haven’t been to Village Inn in awhile. Let’s grab him and get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Red said, beginning to turn around, “And don’t worry, we wanted to surprise you, but your parents already know.”

Kyle blinked again. They all casually assumed that Stan would be included with their hanging out. He was part of their extended group, much like Tweek was.

“Right...I’ll try to find him.” Kyle nodded, swallowing.

Given that it wasn’t a very big or crowded venue, it didn’t take long for him to find Stan. Or rather, Stan found them.

“Kyle!” he called out, “And everyone else!” He was standing against a wall with Wendy, Bebe, Jimmy, and some of their friends, his arm stretched out and waving to them. People were moving in all sorts of directions, but Kyle pushed against them to reach him, careful not to bang his violin.

“Hi.”

“What’s up?” Craig greeted from slightly behind Kyle, with a casual too-cool nod.

“Are these your friends?” Wendy asked Kyle curiously. She meant nothing by it, but it still didn’t sit well with him. He knew he didn’t have many friends at school, only Kenny and recently Stan, but still.

“Yeah,” Stan answered for him, “They’re members of his really rad quartet.”

“Oh, nice.” Wendy gave them a sweet smile.

“Anyway, I don’t know most of you people,” Craig said bluntly, “But Stan, we’re going to Village Inn. You coming along?”

Stan’s eyes grew wide. Then they fell as he looked to Wendy. “Sorry,” he said, “Wendy’s parents already made a reservation and--”

“Alright then,” Craig said, grabbing Kyle’s shoulder a bit roughly, “Then we’ll see you later.” Before Kyle could speak, the impatient Craig already began pulling him away.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this wasn't proofread well. 😭 I'm really busy lately and haven't had a lot of time.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and support!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you all think!!!
> 
> This got kinda messy and dragged on, and I'll probably go back and make numerous edits eventually. It was originally going to be a one shot but it's length turned it into a two shot, but I wonder if I should have split it up into even more smaller chapters? Let me know what you guys think in that regard! And as with anything I write, feel free to leave constructive criticism or direct me to errors I can fix. <3
> 
> I had more fun writing this than I expected to. Kyle is supposed to be annoying which was cathartic to write, especially as I'm someone who played the violin subpar from elementary through high school and knew a TON of people like him (to varying degrees of extremeness) but hopefully I didn't take it too far and turn you all off. LOL
> 
> Also feel free to check me out on twitter/tumblr both @ wintergrew :D I'm more active on twitter, but mostly ramble endlessly about writing logistics and being nerdy over historical inspiration/fashion.
> 
> P.S. Why Red/Heidi? Because why not.


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